


Respect and Respectability

by Silver Lioness (Rumpels_Darker_Dearie)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Good Lucius Malfoy, Good Severus, Murder, No Weasley Bashing, Obsession, Positive Weasleys, kidnap, marriage law
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:42:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22993384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rumpels_Darker_Dearie/pseuds/Silver%20Lioness
Summary: A marriage LawA threat.Pureblood vs Muggleborn.It really is the tale for all the times but who comes out the victor? Who does Hermione choose? Does she choose Snape who represents respect or Lucius, who represents respectability?
Relationships: Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Lucius Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Scabior, Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 22
Kudos: 90





	1. The Firebrand

**Author's Note:**

> I am using a mix of Jane Austen, Charles Dickens, John Le Carré and PG Wodehouse for this story. Hopefully nothing too disturbing. This is more a Mystery/Romance/Humour. There is not going to be a Threesome or Moresome experience in this tale. She just has to date multiple sexy Slytherin's at the same time but any intimate acts are between Hermione and the one she is on the date with at the time only.
> 
> [ ](https://imgur.com/DPRBJ3H)
> 
> Image was made by: [LKat719](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LKat719/pseuds/LKat719/works)

** The Firebrand **

****

The Minister: Rufus Scrimgeour, blankly stared across the table, hands clasped. Conveying how serious this meeting was going to be by withholding his emotions altogether. Countenance set in political neutrality. Narrowing his eyes, scrutinising them at leisure, before launching into the meeting. Making the two men in front of him feel like it was their first day in school. So diametrically opposite that the thought they were friends seemed incongruous to the lion-like man. It mattered not they were facing the Wizarding World’s most powerful man as they continued squirming in their high backed chairs, both running conspiracy theories as to why they were they were called to his presence.

Leaning forward finally to show the Wizard was about to come to the nub of the matter before the Minister silently pushed forward two copies of new legislation. Buff coloured files were picked up by the men as the legend: Marriage Law – was scrawled in a neat script in the centre. Without a word, the men opened the files. Rufus waited until either one was ready to speak as they read through the extensive scroll. Thankfully, due to the professions of both men, they were able to skim read and still take in the particulars.

“So,” one man sighed rubbing his forehead. “How is this supposed to work?”

“Pardon?” Rufus asked blinking as if he did not expect someone to talk. “It is perfectly simple, you two are still considered in your prime. Both of you are not attached and this is a brand new Law and we need the best to set the example – if either of you has...”

“You forget,” the second man sighed. Already acting bored. Still, he was somewhat intrigued by the ensuing chaos once this got out. Also, he was wondering who he would end up with. As far as he was concerned there was only one candidate and she would probably be already married: “That my learned friend here is supposed to be dead.”

“Ah,” Rufus sighed, “of course, your supposed death gave Mr Potter the final impetus he needed to kill Voldemort.”

Both men winced. They knew he was no longer a threat, but the memories were still sore wounds left open to infection. Seven years have passed since the war. Still, it was habit by now that they looked over their shoulders. Scratching where the Mark once stood proud – still a faint trace. A scar they wrought upon themselves. One for family preservation, the other due to a broken heart.

“So, I ask again, how do I fit into this?”

“Well,” Rufus sat back and steepled his fingers against his chin gazing steely-eyed at the raven-haired man: “This law will have to force you out of hiding I am afraid!”

“NO!” the man roared tossing the file in disgust back on the table, “I have finally got the privacy I earned – and earned hard!”

“I understand, Severus, but I can no longer keep your name off the record.”

“You do realise a lot of awkward questions will be asked, don't you?”

“I am sure you are more than adept at fielding all unwanted queries, Severus,” Rufus sighed as he swung his head around to the blond: “Lucius, what say you?”

“I believe I tried to have this repealed _before_ it became common knowledge.”

“Look,” Rufus sighed, “I know this is hardly ideal,” Severus snorted. Unperturbed the Minister pushed forward: “But the Wizengamot have my hands tied. I am also under this blasted law and I enjoy my celibacy.”

Rolling his eyes Severus folded his arms and scowled as he would a first-year who blew up their cauldron: “So, when do we have to make a choice?”

“I have chosen four of you to partake at the start.”

“Two women for two men,” Lucius grinned, “perhaps we can share?”

“Wait until you see them,” Severus sighed, “they are bound to be dogs.”

“That's unkind Severus!” Lucius laughed merrily; a tear fell from the corner of his eye. “Escaped from deaths maw and you're still a pessimist.”

“Four of you will receive a list of available life companions. There will be five to choose from. We will be sensible about the choices, they are tailor-made. There may be the odd same name cropping up.”

“What happens if we happen to like the same one?” Lucius asked.

“I highly doubt that Lucius,” Rufus smirked, “though you have until the end of the summer to make a formal announcement – as it is February 14th a rather apt day to begin, you will...”

Suddenly the door slammed open and the Wizards scurried to the shadows as they wanted to observe who had the audacity to march through the Minister's office like they had the right to it in such a blazing fury.

“Minister!” the voice was cold as ice belying the heat of magical fire energy crackling from the core. A young woman's voice.

“Ah, hello dear.”

“Dear?” Lucius and Severus winced. The married man knew you never patronised a young Witch in the height of temper, the bachelor read people like a book and knew not to say a word when a Witch showed her less salubrious side. “Let,” Rufus was never this stupid, surely? “Me,” measured step, “tell,” click-clack of silver heels. Lucius noticed the stiletto and sighed, “you,” a voice laced with sweet poison, “I,” using her wand casting a neat non-verbal to shove the chairs aside in such flourish Severus roved his gaze up and down what he could see of her form. “Am,” levelling her eyes – the Minister tried not to squirm in the chair at the danger presented in them, “not,” hands splayed flat on the desk, “your _dear_!” the snarl set Severus' head in a spin. “Neither am I a guinea pig, Minster!”

“No,” Rufus sighed, “take a seat.”

“No, I am here to tell you I refuse – absolutely refuse – to take part in this asinine charade.”

Severus' heart fluttered. A woman who did not suffer fools gladly – he liked her already. If she yelled and stomped her foot he would not have cared much for her but she was fiercesome in her approach. Hissed voice and hidden calm were so much more subtle in displaying violent disappointment.

“It is a new law that we need to repopulate our society, Mi...”

“Choose some other Muggleborn to be your guinea pig,” the young woman snapped. “I did not fight a bloody war, get tortured by that Bitch Lestrange,” now it was Lucius turn for his heart to flutter, he hated his thrice-damned sister-in-law. “Watch my best friend suffer on a daily basis to become some pawn to some insipid statute.” Whoever the young woman was, Severus felt his heart miss a beat. The entrance she made rivalled his own. “I did not get hit by Dolohov, wander around Hogwarts after hours or fight Giant Chess Pieces and fall through Devils Snare or get petrified or get,” here she ran out things to say but she still did not lose her stride – hands still splayed on the table as she continued to gaze at the frightened leader: “Believe me, Minister,” she sneered contemptuously, “I will AK the dunderheads who thought of this farcical legislation.”

Now Severus almost blew his cover. A woman. This was his kind of woman. One who could hold her own. Use wonderfully spiteful vocabulary. Level death glares. Sneer so beautifully. It mattered not what she looked like; this Witch was worthy of him.

“I assure you everyone will be subject to the law, but we need to test it out first and you are highly recommended, your status as...”

“As what?” the woman growled. Her hand finally moved in the direction to her wand. Suavely whipping it out with such style Lucius could not help but admire the panache: “As a member of the _Golden Trio_?” The venom she put in the name of given to Harry, Ron and Hermione. Hating the epithet to the fibre of her being. She pushed the tip to the Minister's chest. “I was taught how to duel by a Master of his craft – a Wizard with more balls in his trousers than you most assuredly do have – a Wizard who would be able to kill you and make it look like an accident, a Wizard I wish was here to offer his own brand of acerbic wit!” Damn, Snape sighed. She's referring to me. Shall I talk? “A supposed War Heroine?” gritting her teeth the woman was close to breaking Ministry protocol: “Do you realise that my fiancé of three days – seeing that Owl you sent me – has decided to cut his losses and is now sitting in the lap of whatever puerile female who will have him?”

“I-I-I!” the Minister stuttered. He was terrified this girl was going to murder him right now.

“Yes,” she hissed, “you're scared aren't you?” The Minister was pinned by cold-hearted fear to his chair. Lucius and Severus were piecing some clues together. “Let me tell you,” she said so evenly that Lucius wondered if Bellatrix had come back from the dead, “that you all ought to have been bloody lucky that it was not Thomasina Riddle because if it was,” she threatened. “You would most certainly not be sitting in your gilded cage if that were the case, Minister!”

“I am sorry your fiancé could not wait to see if he made it to your list.”

“Yes well,” she replaced her wand back from whence it came. “I would use a forbidden curse on you, Minister – just remember – I helped thwart one of the cleverest Wizards of his day – I set a teacher's robes on fire because I thought he was killing Harry, defeated a Mountain Troll and worked out a complex logical solution and all in my first year in the Wizarding World,” she gave the Minister a pointed look. “I will make sure I do everything in my power to make sure this law,” she spat as she produced her own buff coloured file and flung it on the desk where it skimmed to the Minister's lap where he picked it up with trembling fingers: “is used to line Kneazle Kitten litter trays, understand?”

“I can ex...”

“Threatening the Minister is not a good way to continue your professional career, Miss...”

“Granger,” the woman said not even batting an eye that she had done this in mixed company. “By that tone and flash of blond,” her lips quirked. “I suppose I have just performed for Lucius Malfoy, hello sir,” her hair followed through her head spin gloriously warrior like: “Pleasure to see you looking so well perhaps you can knock some sense into this buffoon.”

Spinning on her heel Hermione left the office in a trail of raw magnificent magic that left Mr L. J. A. Malfoy rather breathless. His friend walked out of the shadows chuckling low in his throat: “I had never thought that she would turn out like that, she seemed so reasonable in... Wait a minute,” his jaw slackened, “ _she_ was the one who set my robes on fire!”

“You let the first-year sneak up on you and set you alight?” Lucius asked a mischievous gleam in his pale eyes.

Shifting uncomfortably Severus glanced down on the floor: “I was distracted from stopping Potter from being killed in his first Quidditch Match!”

Barking out a laugh Lucius had tears falling from his eyes. “Well,” he sighed to the Minister, “I gather she is one of the Witches.”

Silently Rufus nodded. As the men were about to leave the Minister said: “What did she mean we ought to have been glad it was not Thomasina Riddle?”

The other two men exchanged smirks that glittered: “Never mind,” Lucius giggled, “come on Severus,” he took Hermione's file and walked out of the office. Severus sighed and picked up his Ministry issued Invisibility Cloak following his friend.

They met a rather horrid sight. Gregory Goyle was pressing his body against Miss Granger. Forcing her against the wall. The lout was literally drooling over her neck. Pudgy soft lips near her flesh: “Always liked you,” he said licking his fat tongue over his disgusting lips. “I 'ope this new Law is real, and I get you,” his hands made a clumsy grab for her breast.

The young gorilla literally allowed spit to land on her shoulder. Shuddering with disgust Lucius decided to step in for the poor Witch. She could explain later how she could let herself sandwiched between the loathsome Wizard and a wall. “Mr Goyle,” Lucius said smoothly.

Once the younger man noticed who was there he looked as if he was about to whizz himself: “Sorry, Sir, I'll be on my way.”

Hermione watched as the fat freak stumbled his way down the corridor. Smoothing down her trim light blue robes. Dark green skirt reached halfway down her thighs as she wore sheer black tights and silver heeled stilettos that Lucius had already noticed. The fitted pink cotton blouse showed her figure in such form. Set a rather professional tone. Sexy secretary fantasies flashed through the blond's mind. Lucius noticed that she had become rather lovely. Though her hair still maintained its bushy quality. It highly suited a Lion's mane. Such cutting ferocity in this young witch Lucius felt scratched – in all the right places, he smirked at his swift appraisal. He could almost kneel before her as her slave if she so desired.

“I believe you left this,” he said handing her the proposal.

“Deliberately,” she sighed, “sorry for the way I acted I should know better, but I saw red when I perused it earlier.”

“Your fiancé?”

“Ronald,” she said dispassionately, “we were just engaged then I get that blasted owl three months ago,” she took the file out of his grip, shrunk it and put it in a smart black dragonhide briefcase.

A lift pinged and four elderly workers poured out, leaving the carriage empty. Lucius offered Hermione to go in first as she bitterly mentioned the need to Floo to the 'luckily married Potters!'

“Had their third child I believe?”

“And last if Ginny has a say in it,” Hermione muttered, “I would have thought Ron would have... never mind,” she turned her face away and reached in her pale blue robes and brought a brush out. Yanking it through her hair as if she was thinking of someone else she'd like to yank.

“Is that the way you brush your hair?” Lucius asked horrified at her follicular abuse.

“Yes,” Hermione snapped.

“Why not use a charm?”

“Nothing works, Lucius,” she said as the bristles snagged on a particularly harsh knot causing her to wince. The tone implied they were better acquaintances than they showed in the office. “You really did see all my display?”

“Yes, and such a fine one it was too, Hermione,” the young witch melted compassionately in front of him and rubbed his arm. “Now turn around,” she did.

“I am sorry we have yet to catch the bastard who murdered your wife,” she said as she felt his presence near her. Hermione reached up and around to encircle her arm around his neck. Pulling him close to her – Lucius breathed in her delicious jasmine scent. “Truly, your heart must still be fixing itself.”

“I feel certain sights help fix it,” he whispered. Hermione closed her eyes as she felt tendrils of warm breath land on her neck. “Your brush is a rather original hair accoutrement if I do say so myself.”

Blushing Hermione moved her hand to her brush: “Thanks, it should live there, bet I would not even feel it for days,” Lucius chuckled at her joke.

“Here,” Lucius said. Carefully he pulled the strands out of the teeth. “Start slow,” he whispered standing ever closer behind her, “at the bottom,” tenderly he stroked the brush through the tips. “Work your way up,” he was so near now, and Hermione felt as if her breath was taken out of her body as this man she, well, she respected for a while care for her rats nest. Using his fingers as a comb following through the swipe of the brush. After he was confident that the brush passed through the curls and knots without a snag, Lucius just continued brushing because he could. The sound was making her lean into him as he reached her scalp. A small almost sexual moan escaped her lips. He sped the pace up running the brush from scalp to tip through all layers and then, being a little cheeky, he tucked the brush in his robes as he took his wand out of his snakes head cane and murmured something that Hermione was too relaxed to hear.

“Wow!” she sighed with her eyes closed.

“Turn around so I can arrange it around your face,” Lucius said. Surprisingly, she did. Sweetly, he arranged the luscious locks around her face. Framing her cute cheeks and defiant jaw. “All done,” he whispered. Tilting his head. Hermione found herself tiptoeing up so their lips could meet. “If we're not careful we will be kissing soon.”

“So,” she breathed as she traced her fingers around his face wanting to tug him down towards her. Their lips were a mere centimetre apart.

PING! A supercilious cough from a clearly unimpressed Ministry worker. The two sprang apart as if they had been caught in the act and Hermione landed against something. Or someone. As the thing she landed against made an Oomph sound. Lucius steadied her to her feet. Although she looked at the spot confused. What could have made that sound? Three more people entered. A snooty auburn haired male who looked like all humanity was beneath him. Lucius whispered the Wizard's name in Hermione's ear, and she giggled. Still blushing from the near kiss that she had almost shared with the dubiously light Wizard. The other two Hermione knew by sight and had exchanged pleasantries with at functions.

They soon reached the bottom floor. Unfortunately, they were not left alone again, and their lips tingled with curiosity. “Shall I escort you to the Floo?” Lucius asked offering his arm.

“Why not?” she smiled accepting it. Deliberately, Lucius passed the fountain and made her look in the reflective surface. “What did you do?”

“I brushed your hair the way it should have been brushed.”

“But it is shining and wavy...”

“I must admit to using a small charm or two,” he grinned back. Naughtily he decided to wrap his arms around her middle pulling her close to him. Gulping a little Hermione saw how they looked together. NO! She screamed to herself, he's Draco's father for crying out loud. “Come on.”

Hermione was led with an expression of complete and utter shock. Her hair had not looked that good since the Yule Ball in her fourth year. Taking the Floo Powder, Hermione said: “Mr and Mrs Potter's Living Room!” and Lucius stepped her in with such an old fashioned courtly manner it made Hermione feel beautiful. More than she had done with any amount of kissing and sex with Ronald.

Before she managed to say thank you again the powder enveloped her in green fog as she was taken away. Once she was gone Lucius stepped in after throwing his own pinch with an invisible Severus next to him, and they landed in Spinners End.

Shedding the cloak Severus slumped in the nearest seat in exasperation: “Well, you two may as well have screwed each other in the Ministry Atrium,” he groaned. “Why did you have to brush her hair and make her look like that?”

“At least we know that there is a cure for the bird's nest,” Lucius said sitting opposite his brooding friend: “mind you,” he sighed, “I do hope she does come on my list.”

Rolling his eyes Severus got up and poured himself a port to calm him down. Not offering Lucius any. “I suppose she is passable, and I must admit I enjoyed how she made that dunderhead squirm.”

“Passable?” Lucius sighed in exasperation over his friend's idiotic behaviour over women. “Come on, Severus, you saw how she was dressed? Heard how her shoes click-clacked? The energy crackling from her core?”

“I have other things to do.”

Chuckling Lucius picked up his folder: “Like preparing to answer those awkward questions?”

“Just imagine if Potter finds out I lied to him?”

“You had to,” Lucius sighed, “I know you cared for him, Severus and do not deny it!” Severus snapped his mouth shut. “That Weasley boy. What was he thinking?”

“I have no concern for what they get themselves up to now,” Severus sighed, “I was hoping to never again worry about them."

Getting up Lucius stared down at his friend: “I shall be awfully upset if she ends up on your list and not mine.”

“You can have her.”

“Psh,” Lucius hissed, “just remember I saw your eyes when she stormed in,” the blond smirked, “you cannot tell me you did not feel a little stirring of curiosity over what she may be like as a wife?”

“Bossy, insufferable, interfering, and troublesome.”

“What would it be like to dominate her in the bedroom, Severus?” Lucius eyes glazed over, “to have all that fury writhing beneath or on top of you. To see those tawny eyes darken...”

“You cannot be seriously suggesting I would be interested in a former student?”

With an exasperated roll of the eyes and a matching sigh, Lucius pressed his hand on Severus' shoulder: “I hate to break this to you,” he smirked, “but every eligible Witch you will be offered will likely be a former student.”

“Get lost,” Severus grumbled.

“Just saying, you may as well choose the bright one, you could have lots of makeup sex!”

“Go!” Severus growled. “Now!”

Chuckling Lucius apparated to his Manor. Where he was met with Draco playing with his baby: “Well,” Draco asked.

“GANDPA!”

Suddenly, Lucius was attacked by the toddler and pushed on the ground being covered by sticky wet kisses: “Scorpius,” Draco sighed, “let your grandpa get up, will you!”

Still sitting on the floor rolling around with his grandson Lucius looked up and sighed: “It appears we are chosen to be part of the new law before it takes an effect.”

“Whose we?”

“Me,” Lucius said as he proceeded to tickle Scorpius on the floor, “a friend and two witches.”

“Muggleborn Witches?”

“Yes.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“I had hoped you would no longer need to ask that question,” Lucius said levelling a gaze at his son that told Draco quite clearly he had walked through hell and survived enlightened. “One of the Muggleborn Witches stormed into the Minister's office and threatened him at Wand point – saying she was not going to take part in this stupid farce.”

“It is a stupid farce,” Draco said taking a sip of water, “I completely agree with the Witch.”

“It would be the first time you would agree with _this_ particular Witch,” Lucius said with a hidden smirk behind the words, “for it was none other than Miss Granger.”

Draco choked on his drink: “You realise now she is known as the _Scariest_ Witch of her age?”

“I can well believe it,” Lucius chuckled as Scorpius tried to tickle him back, but it did not work as Lucius was only ticklish in an area where only his conquests could touch. “I managed to calm her down though.”

“How?” Draco tipped his head.

“By brushing her hair.”

The shock of this statement almost made Draco fall out of his chair. “You... you … You...”

“Brushed her hair, Draco, yes.”

“Why?”

“It turns out that it looked the way it did is because she yanks the poor brush through it. After I finished with it, it looked a lot better and rendered her speechless.”

“I wish I was there!”

Now, Lucius was going to make his son run from the room: “She was most appreciative of my gesture and I believe, if we were not so rudely interrupted, we would have kissed.”

Going green with the thought Draco ran out of the room amidst the deepening chuckle of his father. Unaffected Lucius continued rolling on the floor with Scorpius: “What would you think if Gandpa got married again, Scorpy?”

“I have GANDMA,” Scorpius grinned. “Gandma's are nice!”

“Ah, but what do you think of this young lady?” Lucius got up off the floor and picked up a book written by Harry Potter about the Horcrux hunt and the slow defeat of Voldemort. Complete with pictures that Colin Creevey snapped. He opened to the second photograph section where he showed a picture of Miss Granger taken about a year ago at a function. “Her name is Miss Hermione Granger; she went to school with your father.”

“New Gandma?” Scorpius pointed his pudgy finger at Hermione who was smiling.

“New grandma possibly.”

“NO!” Scorpius scowled as he looked at Hermione again. Reminding Lucius of what Draco looked like when he saw a broomstick he really wanted and would not shut up about it until he got it, “New Gandma!”

“You like her then?”

“New Gandma pwetty!” Scorpius said. “New Gandma looks nice!”

Groaning Lucius also looked at the picture anew. “She can be scary,” he whispered, “and she loves books.”

“New Gandma can wead to me?”

“I suppose she would,” Lucius' eyes misted over, “so if grandpa bought Miss Granger home you would be nice to her.”

“I want new Gandma, Papa!” Scorpius turned his head as Draco re-entered the room.

“I am sure that Grandpa is going to find one.”

“Gandpa has,” Scorpius took the large book in his hands and waddled over to Draco. “Miss H. J. Gwanger,” he read under the picture, “New Gandma!”

Looking at his son with a warm smile, Draco took the book and looked at the picture: “You realise if Gandpa marries her you won't be the only treasure.”

“Big house more people!”

“Can't argue with that, Draco,” Lucius chuckled as Scorpius ran back to his grandfather, “I am too old to be sitting on the floor help me up.”

Draco got his wand out and enervated his father back to a standing position and Lucius sat on a more comfortable sofa.

“Want talk to new Gandma.”

“Gods, Father,” Draco sighed rubbing his temples: “He won't shut up about that now, will he?”

“No,” Lucius said quite unashamedly, “he is a Malfoy. He gets what he wants.”

“If she ends up on your list?”

“Oh definitely,” Lucius said, “I gather the situation would make you two uncomfortable, but she may not choose me.”

“She liked you brushing her hair,” Draco said a little miffed that he still had not witnessed that act. “What did it look like?”

“Flake,” Lucius called.

A rather shivery House Elf appeared with wide orange eyes, gnarled ears and a rather wary expression. “Masters?” he asked with a twitch to the right eye. “Has I been bad?”

“No,” Lucius said in a friendly tone. Flake once belonged to Bellatrix Lestrange and he was a bundle of nerves since. It took Lucius a long time to get the Elf to speak, “Flake, you know we are not going to harm you. Now,” he whispered, “could you please fetch us the family Penseive?”

“Master,” Flake twitched his fingers and cracked. Moments later he reappeared with the Penseive. Squeaking with terror as Scorpius began waddling up to him – he left.

“Shall we rename him, Skippy?” Draco said with a smile.

“No, Draco,” Lucius said sharply. Taking his wand up to his forehead, Lucius closed his eyes, sighed and let the walls down on his morning moving his lips as he fast-forwarded to the moment she was being assaulted by Goyle Jr. A most disgusting sight. “ _Legilimens_ ,” he whispered.

Slowly, he pulled his wand from his forehead. A silver strand following the movement. Draco was there ready with a quill box. Swiftly, Lucius deposited the memory in the box. Heart thudding in his ears Draco poured it into the Penseive. Immediately Draco was dragged into his father's memory. Moments later he emerged blushing.

“You may as well have just...” he was aware his son was listening, “you know!”

“Someone else said that,” Lucius said. “I just brushed her hair.”

“The look on her face and the moan she gave out suggested otherwise,” Draco smirked. “You enjoyed it, didn't you?”

“That hair was being abused,” Lucius flicked a lock of his perfectly straight blond hair, “I could not stand by and watch her be cruel to her hair.”

“Whatever, father.”

“Wanna meet new Gandma!” Scorpius said crawling over to the Penseive. “New Gandma pwetty, papa?”

Sighing Draco picked Scorpius up the muggle way and snuggled his nose in his son's neck: “Come on, you need a nap.”

“Wanna see new Gandma!”

Exasperation took over the two older Malfoy men as Scorpius sat in his father's arms. His own small arms crossed angrily against his chest with a pout of his toddler's lip and his eyes narrowed in the typical Malfoy scowl. Weak-willed when it came to his grandson Lucius nodded. “I know where she is,” he said, “you best Floo her over.”

“Where?”

“Potter's.”

Clapping his hands Scorpius jumped up and down in his father's arms. “I like Hawwy,” he said. “Uncle Hawwy and Aunty Ginny always bwings me, sweets!”

“Just the new Gandma,” Lucius sighed. Sugar filled Scorpius did not bear thinking about. How was he going to explain to Hermione that his grandson turned out to have better taste in friends than he did?

Carefully, Draco gave Scorpius to his grandpa and walked to the main Floo in the reception area. He hoped Hermione could let Scorpius down gently. She was gentle with elves so he could only begin to wonder what she would be like as a mother. Somehow, the image of her being Hermione Malfoy, belly swollen with his seed, that glow that only expectant women held, made Lucius' penis harden. He had to exorcise that pretty soon. Blond curly-haired daughters flitted through his mind, giving Lucius a huge cat-like grin.

“She'll be here in half an hour,” Draco said trying to remove Scorpius from his grandfather, but Scorpius held on tight to Lucius long hair. “Oh, I see,” Draco's eyes glinted malevolently, “like that is it?”

“Leave him be,” Lucius sighed. How did I deserve this? A beautiful bouncing boy – my bloodline going strong in this bundle of blond exuberance. A possible second chance at fatherhood. He still wondered why he had not been punished as much as his former comrades. “What was her reaction?”


	2. Scorpius First Crush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scorpius likes Hermione and wants her to be his new Grandma.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, this is not Cursed Child, friendly. This story has Lily as the Middle Child, Astoria won't die. Narcissa has been murdered and Hermione and Ron are not on speaking terms exactly but the rest of the Weasleys, including Molly, still treat her like family. If positive Weasleys are not your bag I suggest you not read any further because they become more involved as the story goes on.

** Scorpius First Crush **

****

When Ginny was just about to put Lily to her daughter's scheduled nap, Hermione thundered through the Floo. The petite redhead had not seen her friend this angry since her idiotic brother dumped her. The Witch was furious although, Ginny smiled, at least she has managed to sort that hair out.

“How'd it go?” it may have been cheeky, but Ginny was one of the few who could weather Hurricane Hermione.

“How do you think?” the young and extremely single Witch spat: “The dunderhead had nothing to say in his defence – what the bloody hell did I bother to fight a war for?”

“It went abysmally judging by your grand entrance,” Ginny shook her head trying to hide her obvious amusement at her best friends discomfort: “I quite agree with you, Mia, but you cannot expect men who were born when the Muggle Queen Victoria was alive to have a modicum of modern sensibilities can you?”

“That man is so patronising,” Hermione tossed her briefcase on the table and glowered at Ginny who had the nerve to smirk at her misfortune. “He had the nerve to call me dear!”

Hiding her mile-wide smirk behind her hand Ginny giggled. “The nerve! That's the fourth unforgivable isn't it?” the young mother cheeked Hermione's embarrassment.

Groaning, Hermione flopped on the sofa: “It is not funny, Ginny,” and stared at the ceiling for a few moments, “I mean,” exasperation and stress caused her to lean her head in her hands, circling her fingertips on her temples to diffuse the onset of a headache. “That man escaped some good hexes because of Mr Malfoy's annoyingly timely intervention.”

“Draco's married,” Ginny pointed out.

“Don't be obtuse, Gin,” Hermione rolled her eyes. “Not Draco, the other one!” Petulantly, she crossed her arms underneath her wonderfully much-admired breasts, as she huffed. “Not only did he save me from that patronising creep who claims to care for the future of Wizard Kind,” she turned her head and held her arms out to hold Lily. The little girl always calmed her down. “Lucius also saved me from the slavering maw of Gregory Goyle.” Mrs Potter quirked an eyebrow at Hermione's informal address of Malfoy Sr. “Then he decided to get close to me in the lift by brushing my hair.”

“What?” Ginny sank on the sofa now genuinely startled by her friend's ever more interesting tale. “How did he... what?” Now that was not what Ginevra Potter was expecting. “So, um... what?” Blinking, Ginny stared owlishly at her friend, “First of all,” she lifted a hand, “since when do you call Mr Malfoy Sr. by his first name and secondly,” sighing as the best friends gazed into each other's eyes: “What the hell was Gregory Goyle doing and how did... what?”

Hiding a smug smile Hermione sighed: “Firstly,” she said stroking Lily's hair, “I call Mr Malfoy Sr. Lucius since I worked with him on trying to track down his wife's killer,” for Hermione was a Magical Lawyer. The reason why she found this law preposterous and pusillanimous. “Second of all, Gregory was clearly running an errand and he was leering over me and some drool of his landed on my shoulder. Suavely Lucius made him pee in his pants just by enquiring in a simple manner how he was,” this made Ginny chuckle. She had never told anyone but a few times Goyle Jr had caught her in the corridors in Hogwarts whilst her then erstwhile boyfriend, big brother and best friend were out destroying Voldemort piecemeal. Salaciously offering to service her in Potter's absence. Strangely, she thought about it, Draco had helped her out a great deal if he caught some bloke drooling over her. She had yet to thank him and perhaps tell everyone soon. “Lucius and I caught the same lift. At first we were alone so it seemed innocent then...” Hermione blushed as she remembered that Lucius warned her that he may just kiss her. “I was so stressed I got my brush out and it snagged on a stubborn knot and Lucius was gentle in attending to my hair,” the brunette tried not to feel warm inside due to the memory. “He then sneaked a beauty charm thus.” she flicked a shining chocolate wave over her shoulder, “the way it looks now.”

“That is it?” Ginny laughed as she took Lily back in her arms. “Why should he, brushing your hair, make you mad?”

“It was not just that,” Hermione rolled her eyes, “if the lift had not stopped to pick up more people I most certainly would have kissed him.”

Groaning Ginny did not need that image in her head. “Harry is going to have to pound me tonight,” she sighed, “just so I have a pleasanter image tomorrow.”

“It was awfully unprofessional of me, Ginny, how could I think of kissing a former client?”

“How did he brush your hair again?”

“Slowly, from the tip to the scalp, layer by layer, curl by curl,” she replied trying not to sigh. “Running his fingers through and even scraped his nails into my crown – it sent shivers down my spine.”

“Wow,” Ginny sighed a light shone in her eyes, “it sounds like he has a hair fetish.”

“No-oh!” Hermione feigned shock pretending to hold a hand to her heart as if it sped at this revelation. “I thought he had it long because he kept an emergency stash of Galleons hidden there.”

At this, Ginny laughed so hard tears fell out of her eyes: “That is why he keeps it tied up! Can't bear to let the streets glitter with lost profits.”

Sparkling with mischief Hermione continued the theme: “Have you noticed that Draco is growing it long now?”

“Preserve us,” Ginny sighed with sarcastic joy, “there's two of them.”

“Three if Scorpius is a copycat child.”

“Scorpy?” Lily said. Finally perking up to the women's conversation. Now they mentioned someone worthwhile. “Scorpy nice, not make fun of Scorpy Aunty Mia!” she crossed her arms and scowled with serious intent.

Much to Ginny's discontent, her daughter seemed to have a little soft spot for Scorpius. Maybe because whenever they were together the two got into the most frightful of trouble. Harry and Draco laughed it off over fire whiskey. Astoria and Ginny felt the need to take headache remedies as Scorpius and Lily continually jinxed James. The yowls as the dark duo of the toddler's assaulted their pray often gave the women much consternation. Something told Ginny that Lily would go into Slytherin just to be closer to Scorpius.

“That was not the only thing that was strange,” Hermione strolled the conversation down another path. “I swear I could feel another pair of eyes on me,” now Ginny sat up to look Hermione directly in the eye at the casual comment. “Both in the Minister's office and in the lift,” Ginny and Hermione's eyes were now locked, “I toppled over and I fell into something – no – someone.”

“Really?” Finally an intrigue. Something Ginny adored. She loved reading Agatha Christie novels. “Do tell.”

“It definitely was someone,” Hermione said chewing her lip thoughtfully, “when I landed on this someone it went Oomph.”

“Oomph?”

“Oomph, Ginny!”

“Oomph,” Ginny sighed – it seemed it was not going to get any more scandalous than that, “so who would hide away then?”

“Someone who clearly does not want to be found.”

“Yes but if this is a HE,” Ginny said, “do you not think that this is the other trial Wizard?”

“The mystery deepens,” Hermione said in her best Sherlock Holmes voice, “Now, Potter, I need you to take notes...”

“I love it when you play-act,” Ginny's eyes were twinkling. “Now, young lady,” she told her daughter, “nap time.”

Just as Ginny was about to go upstairs and put Lily to bed the Floo opened and Draco's head bobbed in the fireplace. “Uncle Dwaco!” Lily squealed climbing down her mother to toddle over to the fireplace where Draco's head bobbed amongst the green flames.

“Hello, Miss Potter,” Draco smirked reaching a handout – rolling her eyes Ginny watched as Lily offered her hand the way she'd seen Astoria do so to her father. Draco kissed Lily's hand causing Lily to blush and giggle. “how is my future daughter-in-law?”

“Over my dead body, Malfoy!” Ginny said feigning indignation. “What do you want?”

Draco turned and looked at Hermione. Wow, his father really did do a good job on her hair. “My son seems to have some insane notion that you are going to be his future grandma, Granger.”

If Hermione had a drink she would have choked on it – however, she just laughed at the ridiculous suggestion. “Who was stupid enough to put that idea in his head?”

“Well,” Draco rolled his eyes, but the twinkle was still present, “it seems my father showed Scorpius a picture of you just after daddy dear asked Scorpius if he would mind having a new gandma.”

Great, so Scorpius added 2 and 2 and got 5. She vaguely wondered if Lucius did this deliberately, knowing how much Hermione adored his grandson. “Bloody Malfoy's!” Hermione growled.

“Bloody Malfoys!” Lily copied as Ginny scooped her back in her arms to take her for her nap.

“Sorry, Ginny!” Hermione said horrified she had taught Lily how to cuss.

“Bloody Malfoys!” Lily laughed and sang it on a loop until Ginny threatened not to read Beatrix Potter to her before she went to sleep. “Sorry mama,” Lily kissed Ginny's nose. Something that made Hermione's uterus burst with a desire to become a mother. “Aunty Mia, you bad girl!”

“Yes, she is,” Draco continued to smirk. “Naughty Granger destroying the innocence of one so young – frankly I am appalled.”

“All right,” Hermione snapped. “I apologised,” then she turned her full attention towards Draco. “I will come in about half-an-hour, I need a decent cuppa to prepare myself for your child.”

“Oh, and Grandpa Malfoy has requested no sweeties for Scorpius.”

“That not fair!” Lily scowled. “Tell Lu- Lu- Lucas that not fair.”

Lucas? Hermione giggled. Maybe that should be how she would greet him. After Draco left Hermione got up and went to the kitchen to make a cup of tea: “Of all the stupid ideas to put in a child's head,” she huffed. “Now I am going to have to look into a pair of beautiful wide hopeful blue eyes and make them lower with disappointment.”

“He's a Malfoy,” Ginny said as if that explained everything, “he won't let go until he gets what he wants. If Lucas,” she snorted trying to hold in her laughter, “can't say no to him,” the intense gaze Ginny offered Hermione seared through her friend's heart, “remember that he is tied by blood, then what chance do you have?”

“Have you seen Scorpius, Ginny?”

“He cute,” Lily sighed and flopped against her mother's chest. Whistling a little snore.

“Precisely,” Hermione whispered. “Scorpius is cute.”

“So, harden your heart.”

“I cannot, Ginny, he is adorable.”

“You'd spoil your kids to pieces if you could.”

“If your brother had not run out on me I might have been an expectant mother by now.”

“Yeah,” Ginny sighed, “especially for that piece of fluff.” It did not take an Occlumens to show that Ginny was inordinately spiteful towards Lavender Brown. “I best go now before I lose it and wake my dearest up.”

Once Hermione had made her tea she watched as Ginny walked off with Lily bouncing in her arms to keep her asleep, the girl had her thumb in her mouth, sucking it. Hermione was told that was why she had a slightly large overbite, but she did not believe that theory for one minute. Sipping the tea thoughtfully, Hermione began to think of the almost kiss – her lips still tingled with expectation. With a sigh, she glanced at her watch.

Sitting down on the chair Hermione thought about how she could refuse those baby blues Scorpius would flash at her and groaned. She was halfway through her mug when Harry got home and was pleased to see Hermione in his kitchen: “Hey,” he said sitting down next to her, “what's wrong?”

“Where do you want me to start?” she muttered in her arms.

“Come on, Hermione?” Harry said. “I'm your brother remember, if not by blood by adoption. So please,” he tugged Hermione in his embrace. “Tell me, sweetheart.”

“All right, I nearly murdered the Minister got slobbered over by Gregory Goyle was saved both times by Lucius Malfoy who proceeded to seduce my hair into what it looks like now and Scorpius wants me to be his new grandma.”

“Wow,” Harry blinked. “Run that by me again?”

“Ugh!” she muttered, “Lucius Malfoy and I almost kissed, Harry.”

“Could do worse,” Harry said.

Sitting up to attention Hermione gaped at him: “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean,” Harry sighed, “the fact that he was in the Minister's office suggests that he is one of the trial Wizards as you are one of the trial Witches. If he ends up on your list you are seriously not going to tell me you won't consider it?”

“Depends on who else is on the list.”

“You have been itching to get your grubby hands on his huge Library for a while now,” her brother smirked. “You practically drool when you recall the number of books he's got.”

“So what?”

“Imagine being able to part own it?” he said raising his eyebrows.

“You're evil, Potter!” Hermione growled. “I can tell you I would be the last person Lucius Malfoy would consider marrying.”

“Does not sound like it,” Harry murmured.

“How can you be all right with the idea?”

Shrugging Harry's green eyes shone with mischief: “I just wonder if his Mansion is overcompensating for something.”

Blushing, Hermione fisted her hands in her robes and stared at her mug: “I have to be ready to go and put a little boys dreams to shreds.”

“Just remember who his father is,” Harry said, “that should steel your resolve.”

“Haha, Potter.”

“So what are you going to say?”

“I cannot dredge up ancient history that would not be fair to any of them,” she sighed as she gulped down her now lukewarm tea and made a face as she gasped out the taste. “I just have to simplify the law for him.”

“There is something else,” Harry frowned, “isn't there?”

“I got the feeling that Lucius was not the only Wizard in either the office or lift,” she furrowed her brow, “it was like there was another pair of eyes observing me,” shuddering slightly, Hermione glanced at Harry. “I had not felt that sort of burning sensation since...”

“Si-ince?” Harry said slowly waving his hand, urging her to continue.

“It is funny,” she whispered, “but I could've sworn that it was Professor Snape.”

“I think Mr Malfoy must have addled your brain by tidying up your hair.”

“No, Harry,” she said, “you remember how we sort of knew he was around the corner?”

“Yes,” Harry said pursing his lips, “frequently.”

“Well it was like that,” she sighed, “like he was there.”

“We all know that is a ridiculous notion, we all saw him die!”

“He was not buried.”

“I tried to stop the flow of blood.”

“Yes but remember how we had to fight to get his portrait done.”

“That... is an excellent point,” Harry furrowed his brow as he mulled this over, “it was rather strange we had to protest to get his portrait in the Hogwarts Headmasters Hall of Fame.”

“Also,” she said, “when the lift stopped the first time I lost balance and landed against someone, he went Oomph.”

“Oomph?”

“Yes Oomph, and don't repeat the word – I have done the Oomph verbal dance with Ginny!”

“Where is my dear wife?”

“Putting your dear daughter in bed,” Hermione said. “I think you ought to have a word with Scorpius.”

“Why?”

“Find out what his intentions towards Lily are,” Hermione smirked. “Tell him to make an honest toddler out of her.”

“She still thinks he is cute then?”

“Unfortunately yes,” Ginny said as she waddled in the room. “Had you not best go to Malfoy Manor now?”

“I hate my life,” dumping the mug in the sink Hermione looked up at the stunningly beautiful redhead being hugged by her husband, “Ginny trade with me?”

Taking her husband's hand as it wrapped around her waist Ginny grinned: “Nope, I'm quite happy thank you!”

Childish though it was, Hermione stuck her tongue out at Ginny and snarled: “Meany!”

“So you may have to marry Lucius Malfoy,” Ginny rolled her eyes, “it is not the end of the world because we sort of been there and done that.”

“I do not want Scorpius getting his hopes up.”

“I think Hermione has become soft in her old age,” Harry grinned as he placed Ginny on his lap hugging her tight to him rubbing his wife's swollen belly with pride.

“Scorpius is too lovely,” Hermione said, “that is all there is to it. Why they had to give him that name I have no idea. Could have called him Severus or Gaius or ...”

“You are stalling, Hermione,” Harry pointed out, “go.”

“People have the nerve to call me bossy,” she growled as she purposefully strode back into the living room.

The flash of green light indicated that Hermione had gone. Leaving Harry and Ginny extremely loved up in the kitchen.

An elf was waiting by the Floo ready to receive her. A creature that looked so terrified that she wondered if the Malfoy's had changed: “What is your name?” she knelt down and whispered lest it run away. Gently, she took hold of the elf's hand and pulled it to her and then gave it a little hug, “shh shh shh,” she rubbed the elf's back, “calm down little one,” she sighed.

“Flakes,” the elf muttered into her robes, “you be the Miss they’s expect?”

“Yes,” Hermione said, “how long have you been here?”

“Since after the war,” Flake said, “I was the elf to the Lestranges.”

Explains the nervous twitching. Hermione scowled: “Well,” she said as she rolled her sleeve up, “I know what it is like to be at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange,” the elf glanced at her scarred arm. “So, do not worry, I am a friend in sympathy.”

“Thank you, Miss. Masters here are very nice.”

“That is a great compliment,” Draco said with a playful gleam in his bright blue eyes. “Hello, Granger, like the hair.”

Hermione frowned at him. He had not told his son!? “He...” suddenly she was engulfed by toddler and dogs. Not just any kind of dog – large; long-haired and extremely affectionate dogs.

“Hestius! Nero!” Lucius commanded sharply as the dogs whined and sat down. In a couple of strides, Hermione was let up by hand to a smiling Lucius. “I am sorry about that.”

“Ah,” Hermione winked, “the dogs attacked me because they could smell this on my person.”

With a discreet turn of the wand, she brought out from her robes two deliciously raw sirloin steaks and handed them to the dogs who only loved this strange woman more. Patting their heads as they ate, Hermione whispered something in their ears which made them wag their tails.

“What did you say?” Draco asked.

“Is it not time they were studded out to proper bitches for more puppies to be born, such fine handsome dogs – surely the genes are going to waste?”

“Thought you did not believe in all that?” Draco said.

“I did not specify what breed, that is up to their Master, but they are gorgeous,” one of them looked up with wide brown eyes and licked Hermione's face. Making her laugh. “Wrong species I'm afraid. Besides,” she whispered this to Scorpius: “I like cats.”

“New Gandma,” Scorpius said to Hermione, “you new, Gandma. Gandpa like you.”

Blushing a little Hermione had a hard time to set the child on his feet: “Lily Potter likes you,” she said to Scorpius. “She thinks you're cute.”

“I – I – I think you are pretty,” Scorpius planted a wet sloppy kiss on Hermione's lips earning him a hair ruffle from Lucius.

“Only two and he has the Malfoy charm,” Hermione ruffled Scorpius' hair after Lucius. Scowling he immediately straightened it flat with his little hands. “Scorpius, come on, Aunty Hermione can't hold you forever.”

“If Gandpa won't marry you I will!” Scorpius folded his arms in a cross gesture then he softened his expression as to continue, “you pretty.”

“Pretty is good,” she sighed, “but you have to base more on a marriage other than pretty.”

“Like what?”

Lucius had taken Hermione by the small of her back and Draco held the door open to their study. Hermione gasped in awe of the books – then there was the multi-storey Library and goodness knows what else. “Aunty Hermione, like what?”

Sitting down on the nearest chair Hermione hugged Scorpius on her lap and smoothed his face and hair: “Well, there are similarities to things people like.”

“What you like?”

“I like swimming in lakes and pools,” she rested her chin on the boys head, and began singing: “Raindrops on roses, whiskers on kittens, bright copper kettles, warm woollen mittens, brown paper packages tied up with string,” she stroked the boys nose and looked in his eyes: “these are a few of my favourite things,” she kissed his forehead, “when the dog bites, when the bee stings; when I'm feeling sad, I simply remember my favourite things and then I don't feel so bad.”

Mesmerized by Hermione's performance of a song Lucius did not know in the present time. Though he made sure as heck to find out at the latest available opportunity and get her to sing the entirety of in private only made him like the young Witch more: “What else?” Scorpius sighed almost falling asleep in her arms.

“Snow globes, books,” she felt peaceful holding this child just as she had with Lily, “brewing potions; trying to figure things out – I have to keep Wolfsbane well stocked up,” she looked at the now quiet boy, “do you know the difference between aconite and wolfsbane?” Scorpius shook his head. “What does a Bezoar do?”

“Cures poisons,” he muttered resting his cheek against Hermione's heart, putting his thumb in his mouth.

“No,” she said swatting it away, “you would end up with a horrid smile by putting your finger in your mouth.”

“New Gandma, sing me another song?”

Hmm, she was skimming through her list of songs then alighted on one from a vinyl her father liked: “Ribbons from your dancing shoes, in shreds and threads and feeling used, are hanging up our yesterdays! Down the streets the empty dance halls, due to empty circumstance, all seem to be closed down today,” she hummed a little, rocking Scorpius back and forth as he was struggling to keep his eyes open, “and through the silence,” she shifted position and rose from her seat pacing up and down with him. “I hear the word for love, I hear the word for death, but I don't hear any answer, while death can talk of la mort, and love can whisper – l'amour,” she kissed Scorpius on the head as his weight grew increasingly heavy on her: “the floor has lost its dancers,” she started walking by the fire and took Lucius hand gazing up in his eyes, he was enchanted. “Take your partner by the hand and dance the ghost of a Sarabande moving like a miracle,” carefully Lucius turned her around in a gentle heel spin where she landed her back to his chest. “Shoe to shoe, cheek to cheek, every day of every week,” they swayed their hips as they both soothed Scorpius to a gentle nap. “Step by step by century,” she leaned in on Lucius again – the fire, the silence from the peaceful child in her arms were all weaving a different spell on her: “Through the silence,” she whispered, “I hear the word for love, I hear the word for death, I don't hear any answers, while death can talk of la mort,” she slowed down the tune to a hum. A soft comfortably quiet hush descended, “and love can whisper l'amour,” she sighed as she felt Lucius rest his cheek on her shoulder – his arms wrapped around her waist, gulping Hermione finished the song: “the floor,” she quivered, “has lost,” she sang dramatically, “it's dancers, now.”

A few moments of silence made sure he was whistling contentedly in Hermione's arms. Leaving Draco to whisper for another elf to come: “This is Wonky,” he murmured to a more confident looking house-elf, “Wonky, please take my son to his crib.”

Bending down Hermione made sure Scorpius was properly arranged in the Elf's arms, brushed Scorpius hair aside and kissed his forehead: “Goodnight, little Prince,” she sighed.

“I bes careful with the young master, Missy,” Wonky said.

“I am sure you are,” Hermione beamed at the elf, “you are clearly doing a fine job.”

The elf blushed and as they carried the sleeping toddler together – she just wanted to make doubly sure Scorpius did not wake up to scream the house down. Once alone Lucius sat in his chair and let out a breath that he did know he was holding in but dared not to let out, till now.

“Scorpius likes her,” Draco said with a twinkle, “you got competition, father.”

“I rather think I do,” Lucius smirked back, “but for entirely different needs,” he winked back making Draco pale at the thought, again, of his father with his friend and colleague.

A moment later Hermione re-appeared and looked like she was fit to burst with pride as she hugged Draco: “You have a beautiful child, Draco,” she said as she kissed him on the cheek, “must be Astoria's doing.”

This caused Lucius to guffaw with laughter. Hermione looked at Lucius and shook her head: “Sorry for singing muggle songs but they seemed to work.”

“Music is a magic that comes across the divide, Miss Granger,” Lucius smiled back as he beckoned Hermione over to sit with him on his dark green leather brass-studded wing back chair. Oh no, she thought, don't say he does like me after all? Tilting his head to the side with an odd smirk on his face he sensed her hesitation. “I won't bite.”

Not much, she thought as she shrugged her shoulders. I am a Gryffindor – a Lioness – and I fought the Dark Lord. I can sit on a man's lap. Walking with defiance Hermione allowed Mr Malfoy to settle her on his lap. He held her tenderly close to him she could hear his heartbeat. What had she done to make this change? Draco watched in horror.

“What's wrong, Draco?” said Hermione girlishly. Fluttering her eyelashes coquettishly at her peer. “Have you not seen a woman sitting in a man's lap before?”

With that, he bolted out of the door leaving Hermione and Lucius alone. “What were those songs?” Lucius asked stroking one hand down her back to keep her supported and the other he used to tentatively explore her leg: “the second one?”

A warm sensation flowed through her as she felt his fingernails scrape up and down calf muscles circling around the knee and down to the ankle again. The idea was making her giddy. She wondered if Lucius was prepared to go through with it. Hermione found her tongue begin to tingle in anticipation of a kiss.

“The Empty Dance Hall,” Hermione found herself mirroring Scorpius with Lucius by resting her cheek on his heart. “All About Eve – that is the name of the band, I liked them as a child,” how she managed to make coherent sentences when his nose, aquiline and perfect, rubbed gently against her cheek she had no idea. Immediately, Hermione relaxed as his hand circled past her knee and on her thigh, dragging the skirt of her robe up to reveal her beautiful legs. “The other one is cal... oh boy,” she sighed as her legs uncrossed. Now one hand splayed across her lap and a finger was inching its way towards her panty line. “I think,” she began until she saw the glint in his eye as he discovered she was wet. “Crumbs,” he chuckled as she refused to swear under his sensual pressure. “The first one,” she arched her hips up to encourage Lucius to stroke between her willing petals. “Called Sound of Music... the song is,” biting her lip Hermione flopped her head over Malfoy's shoulder and quivered in his arms. “A few of my favourite things,” she said in a slight rush and rising panic as she now felt fingers brushing against her sex, “mmm,” she moaned sucking in her lower lip over her teeth causing Lucius to growl from the base of his throat. Brushing the hair was Childs Play, this was serious. One finger slowly entered her core making her hips gently buck under his hand. It had been so long for her to have a man pleasure her. “Lu-cius,” she hissed.

“I can stop if you want to?” he murmured seductively in her ear. “Though I think you want the big bad Slytherin to make you feel,” here he dug two fingers through her throbbing folds into the centre as he slowly tortured her with smooth stroking actions. “I wonder what got you so wet so quickly, Hermione?” he whispered as his tongue flicked in and out of her ear. Then he slipped his digits out only to pump her to orgasm with three fingers inside her whilst his thumb kept circling her little swollen bead: “Care to enlighten me?” All she could do was whimper and mewl from his gentle but wonderful attention. “No?” he said. “Hmm, I wonder how you taste, Hermione?” the sound of Lucius smacking his lips together after licking his fingers clean. “Delicious as I knew you would be – the sweet thing that you are,” Lucius loved causing a young witch to fall apart with just the power of his voice alone. Seemed the Lioness liked a Snake's touch. Interesting. “Hermione?”

Merlin! I _want_ this!? I _actually_ want this!? In a cheeky move, he thrust his hips up so the young cub could feel his impressive erection grinding against her. “I-I-I'm not sure,” she sighed, “it's a bit sudden,” at this his fingers had brushed her panties aside and stroked her in earnest making sure she received the pleasure she could from his hand if not from his shaft. “We ha-ha-hardly...” at that Lucius impressed his groin into her thighs, “damn,” she snarled as she laid back allowing Lucius to pay her the attention she needed, “why are you doing this?”

“A clever,” he whispered licking her lobe, “bright,” his lips moved down to her upturned jaw as he spread hot kisses down the side of her throat, “beautiful Witch in my home,” his hand was picking up momentum causing her to buck a little and spread her legs wider. She must look like a brazen hussy. Her breasts were hardening now. “One who calmed down my most skittish of Elves,” with the L sound he painted her swanlike neck with the flat of his tongue – detailing the work with well-placed kisses. “One who sang my grandchild to sleep and one who fed my dogs.” Now she was lying flat on her back across his lap like she was some wench awaiting the Master of the House's pleasure. Well, she was, in a way. Obviously Lucius Malfoy loved the pleasure of women entirely too much. “How many lovers have you had, my little lionceau?” As she felt cool air hit her flesh she arched her back as he stroked her stomach through her blouse as her legs were now exposed to his sight.

“One,” she sighed. “Ronald Weasley.”

She did not see his lip curl in a snarl of disgust. Eyes flashing with fury as she named her only sexual partner. This fine witch almost degraded herself. Possessively, the other hand began to feel and cup her breasts through the clothing. Swiftly, he unhooked her outer robe. “Hmm,” he whispered. “All laid out on my lap panting and highly aroused...” Noting the fitted style of the pastel pink blouse once more with a grin. No fancy designs save some light green stitches into the sides representing ivy growing up her waist and around the breasts: “This blouse,” he sighed fingering the buttons before popping them out of their holes in one slick movement. Revealing her light pink satin bra that covered her 32 c sized breasts. Hungrily, his eyes feasted on the effect he had on her. Gasping with delight as he beheld the rather tight but mid-length navy skirt. Sexy and smart: “Absolutely delightful, my dear,” he sighed as he kissed her stomach with several hot feather-light touches of his sensual lips whilst still stroking her young now swollen labial folds that were beginning to pulse with desire.

Hermione's hair trailed down to the floor in rivulets of honey browns, chestnuts, auburns and touches of silver and gold in there. It was her face that captivated him. Content and relaxed with her eyes closed. Trusting in him completely as one hand still languidly stroked her supple flesh. Then she felt her upper body being lifted up by a strong arm and a pair of lips crushed on hers with a harsh force that fed that tingling desire from earlier. “Hermione,” he whispered as his fingers were still buried within her petals, “do you want to carry on?”

Opening her eyes she gazed into Lucius darkened silvered orbs. “Um,” she blushed as she noticed her blouse undone, her skirt hitched over her waist and her arms entwined around his neck. Dry mouth! Water! “I would rather not,” she groaned, “it would only raise Scorpius' hopes and um,” she quavered here as she felt his hand leave her sex but still on her. “If you are not um,” she pushed his hands off her body as she scrambled off his lap. Doing up her buttons and rearranging her skirt she picked up her robe and clicked it back in place. “I,” she blushed looking at his blank expression. “Um,” bobbing her legs in a slight curtsy and ran to the door and looked at him again, “cheers!” she said accompanied by another rushed curtsy.

Immediately, she ran out of the door and grabbed the Floo powder to go back to Ginny, who would probably laugh at her awkwardness at being felt up by Lucius. Astoria stepped out of the fireplace before Hermione could step in.

“Hermione,” she smiled, “what...”

“Have to go,” she mumbled in a flash of green Hermione disappeared.

Astoria shrugged her shoulders and Lucius walked out of the study smirking with slightly swollen lips and flushed cheeks. Oh no, Astoria groaned, father-in-law, is up to his old tricks with young attractive Witches again. Ever since Narcissa was found murdered four years ago Lucius did not waste time to find consolation in the arms of many sympathetic bimbos muggle or magical, as long as they simpered they were bed worthy. Hermione was a departure from the norm. Maybe she ought to invite Hermione out for lunch and say sorry on his behalf.

No wonder Hermione did not want to look in her eyes.


	3. The List

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We find out who could potentially marry whom.

** The Lists **

****

He was on his third glass of Fire Whiskey – so his quiet, peaceful sojourn was at an end due to a blasted piece of bureaucracy. The evening was drawing to a close and the list was coming tonight via owl. Tomorrow everyone would know he had survived. Including Potter. He decided he would play along – after all – he had no faith in the Ministry. What did a bunch of quill pushing sign-on-the-dotted line freaks know about companionship? Even out of five, no Witch would be in her right mind to choose him. Especially no non-Slytherin Witch _he_ taught would consider him.

As he was about to pour out his fourth glass there was a light tapping on his kitchen window. Rolling his eyes, he opened it. Opening his fridge as the owl swooped in, he picked up a defrosted dead mouse he had on hand for potions ingredients and handed it to the grateful bird. The fact that he accepted the treat with gusto meant this missive required an answer.

What he was really trying to forget was how quickly that Granger girl had affected him. Gods, he did not realise she had observed him quite so closely, she was acting every inch a mini Snape. Almost, he curved his lips with a smirk, his heart swelled with pride at how well she turned out. Not only was she speaking her own mind, but she also had the audacity to hold a former friend at Wand Point. Either the war-hardened her or being dumped by that Weasley brat had a brilliant effect on her personality. Being broken-hearted by a redhead himself he could almost empathise – except, Lily was not a dunderhead – and that was why he was in this self -induced exile right now.

The red coloured envelope was covered with glittering heart charms over the flap of the seal. Shuddering in disgust at the stupid joke that was this commercial reason for a midwinter holiday put him in mind of that equally worthless dandy Gilderoy Lockhart. The blithering idiot thought he could teach the children how to duel. The only reason he had volunteered for that in the first place was so the tykes could actually learn something. He seemed to remember a very misled Granger having a crush on the fool. Still, she was 13 then. How life changes us, eh Miss Granger. Now, it seems, I am the one in awe of you. Oh, how I had hoped to reveal myself to you there and then you firebrand.

With his fingernail, he sliced the seal open and opened the folded sheet within and blanched.

**I**

Hermione rushed through the Floo and barged in on the Potter family eating dinner but Ginny always had a plate reserved for her. Thank heavens, she sighed, mousaka. Her favourite. A glass of red and Hermione smelled liquor and something deep, dark and chocolate for dessert. Circe knows she needed it.

“Why do you look so flushed?” Ginny asked innocently as Hermione took the napkin and laid it on her lap.

“No reason,” she shrugged nonchalantly as she helped herself to a good heap of salad in Greek dressing. “It is just uncommonly warm at the Manor especially with a particularly playful toddler.”

“You're beetroot red,” Harry remarked. “That's more than playing Marco Polo with a kid.”

Damn, she forgot Harry was now a trained busybody. “Can I please eat before I tell you what happened?” she snapped as she gulped down the wine and ate the dinner with attack and gusto.

“Hermione,” Ginny gasped when she witnessed her friend knock back another half a glass of wine, “you don't usually drink wine like water unless something is bothering you.”

“I should not have gone there,” the brunette sighed as she was feeling the warm tingle of muscles relaxing. She realised she could now explain to the Potters why she was so out of sorts. “It started off well,” she half-lied, “it was lovely hugging Scorpius again. He thinks I'm pretty. Two years old and he had the audacity to tell his grandfather that if he doesn't want to marry me then Scorpius will.”

“Intelligent kid,” Harry said with a half-smile.

Giggling Ginny asked: “What was Lucius response?”

“Ah, two years old and already got the Malfoy charm, or something like,” Hermione nodded as she bit into more crunchy lettuce, juicy tomato and feta cheese. “He was so cute and pouty. Apparently he wants Grandpapa to have more children because they live in a big house so it needs more humans.”

“Aw!” Ginny held a hand to her heart.

“Mr Malfoy's dogs also bounded up to me and licked me so I produced sirloin steaks for them and that served to make them like me more – at which I got friended for life.”

“Not too bad so far,” Harry grinned sipping his only glass of wine. “Sirius did always tell me you had a way with dogs.”

“Then I sort of went along with things,” here she blushed as bright red as Ginny's hair.

“Ooo now this has to be finished,” Mrs Potter gossip extraordinaire leaned forward eagerly. Chocolate brown eyes alight with glee. “What things?”

“I don't really...”

“Oh come on, Hermione, you have to elaborate otherwise Ginny won't let me sleep tonight as she...” at one glare from his stubborn wife Harry shrunk in his seat. “Fine!” he fake surrendered.

“Then I start singing to the toddler,” Hermione groaned realising Harry was right. Her sisterly heartfelt for him. Also, she'd rather the facts be known than Ginny playing Chinese whispers with unfounded theory. “A Few Of My Favourite Things,” she looked to Harry for comprehension but Harry shrugged. Oh, she blushed, she forgot that despite being raised by muggles he was not allowed to partake in muggle amusements. “It is from a Musical based on a real story called Sound of Music,” she said in explanation. “A Christmas Family Tradition was to watch that or Mary Poppins. Julie Andrews or else,” she laughed. Coughing when she realised neither knew who Julie Andrews was. “Then Scorpius wanted me to sing another song; so I sang one from an album my dad used to listen to. This particular song always helped me to sleep as my mother danced with me in her arms. So I started dancing with Scorpius in my arms and then Mr Malfoy begins dancing with me!”

“Oh, Harry call the Aurors!” Ginny joked. “Lucius Malfoy is trained in the dark arts of dancing!”

This earned a roll of bread being chucked the red head's way and Harry smirked. Hermione never threw food unless she was either relaxed by alcohol or stressed. Right now, his brunette friend was clearly both. “When a house-elf took Scorpius up to his bedroom Mr Malfoy then beckoned me to sit on his lap,” Harry spat out some wine. “Not so cheeky now are we?” she sneered. “Of course this made Draco flee from the room green at the gills because I teased him about never seeing a woman sit on a man's lap before.” Snorting, Ginny looked at Hermione and her wide eyes seemed to want to hear more. It was clearly more than a little cuddle otherwise her normally poised friend would not have her knickers in a twist. Groaning Hermione looked at Harry for support: “That was when he attempted to seduce me.”

“Seduce you?” Harry snarled slamming his glass on the table after his last bite of dinner.

“Oh no, Harry,” Hermione jumped up and held his shoulder firmly in her hand in an effort to calm him. “Don't worry,” she made him gaze into her eyes. “I was enjoying it for a while but then he asked me if I wanted to carry on?”

“So?” Ginny waved her hand in a circle in slow motion.

“Ginny!” Harry groaned staring at his empty plate.

“I panicked!” Hermione cried. “Steal from Professor Snape. Tick. Rescue Convict. Tick. Form an illegal movement. Tick. Crucio'd by Bellatrix. Tick,” she grumbled as she speared an in-offending piece of lamb mince: “Have Lucius Malfoy feel me up and then give the most orgasmic kiss ever – cross!”

“Do you have to go into details?” Harry paled.

“I fled, Harry. He gave me the choice and he did not press it or follow me. Honestly,” huffing as she rolled her eyes as she lifted her now a third glass of wine and held it aloft near her cheek as she turned and sipped it, “I even curtsied to him and said cheers!”

Ginny laughed so hard tears came out of her eyes: “Curtsied?” she guffawed, “you?”

“Yeah, it was embarrassing.”

“Bet he liked it,” Harry mumbled. “He did not coerce you into anything?”

“Truly,” Hermione sighed a little apprehensively, “the only unforgivable is that I was so close to saying yes.”

“Why?” Ginny asked tilting her head as she sipped her water.

“Because he is still Lucius Malfoy, Ginny, and as much as I am loathed to say this,” she groused with her arm under her breasts and sat back into the seat, “but I do not want to risk anything because I am subject as a guinea pig for this nonsensical new initiative.”

“You could have still said yes,” Ginny said, “I doubt he likes being a Guinea Pig any more than you do.”

“Probably less so,” Hermione whispered. She stared out of the window and saw the twinkling of the night sky. “I should be getting my list tonight.”

Suddenly, as if the owl was fuelled by her utterance, she saw the most beautiful creature tap on the window. Harry let him in and Hermione gave the owl the rest of her dinner to chew on before she took the parchment. Flowing elegant script. Sparkling green writing much like what was used for Hogwarts Letters handsomely scrawled her name on the envelope. Shrugging her shoulders she opened the missive.

“What does it say?” Ginny breathed.

“It says:

_Miss Granger,_

_I understand my actions may have been unwanted and unwarranted. I do not know what came over me but you really were the most glorious creature I ever beheld in both eyes and arms for a long while. Your warmth kindled my old heart and your light and laughter seemed to resurrect something inside of me – you are now so far removed from that little girl in Flourish and Blotts that unfortunate day, that I quite forgot you were a peer of my son's._

_I shall not be bothering you again._

_Mr Lucius J.A. Malfoy_ ”

“Wow,” Ginny breathed shooting off her chair. Rushed around the table. Before Hermione had the chance to grab a quill to send the owl back with a reply her friend read it thrice over. “Sounds like you have done something to him,” she sighed. “Let him bother you, Hermione.”

“He made reference to the day he gave you that diary!” Hermione said trying to defend Ginny's honour. “You want me in a relationship with him?”

“We-ell,” Ginny said slowly, “if he had not given me that diary – you would not have worked out that the Basilisk was terrorising everybody – without that no one would have known about Moaning Myrtle's Murderer thus exonerating Hagrid from a decades-old crime of which he was framed – that, in turn, would not have led Harry down in the chamber where his tenacity destroyed, not only what Slytherin had put there, but the first part of Tom's soul. So,” she said with a triumphant sparkle, “one could argue he did us a favour!”

“That is not quite how I remember it,” Hermione groused. “Fine, I will write back saying I was not that bothered and I encouraged it in some way or other.”

“No,” Harry said, “still sounds like he Imperio'd you or...”

“Look in her eyes, Harry, she is way to snippy to have been controlled.”

“Thanks, Ginny,” Hermione growled.

Ginny went off to fetch the quill box and some ink. The beautiful eagle owl looked at Harry with disdain but when he spotted Hermione again he cooed and hopped onto her shoulder making sure his talons were softened as he scowled at anyone who dare hurt her. In truth, Harry was frightened of this bird, he was much like Lucius himself.

“Come on,” Ginny said.

Hermione sat down, picked a white peacock feather quill and thought about what needed to be said. Dipping it in the ink, Hermione smiled as she knew how to reply. Knowing she had to say something soothing in return. After she had scribbled in her neat, perfect, tight script, Hermione sat back satisfied she had conveyed the right message across.

“Read the reply aloud please?” Ginny asked.

“Absolutely not,” Hermione said rolling the parchment and tied it to the owl's leg, “there you go you clever Owl,” she whispered as she tickled the chest which the owl puffed out and looked as smug as an animal could be when it was being stroked by someone who was obviously pretty. He hopped onto Hermione's wrist and then scooted on the kitchen side before launching its magnificent flight out of the window.

As soon as that owl departed another entered – not so elegant. Definitely not as ostentatious but rather, it seemed stuffy and pompous. It held out a red envelope with a glittering charmed heart. Gods, she sighed, this must be the list.

Trembling Hermione flicked open the seal and dropped to her chair in utter shock letting the parchment flutter to the floor for Harry to pick it up and read the names. Each one seemed to evoke a different sort of reaction. Until the last one … the very last name … quietly he handed the parchment to his wife whilst he poured himself another glass of wine and also glugged that down like water.

Unfortunately, all Ginny had to recover from her shock was actual water. Not quite the Valentines evening she had prepared for. Both Witches glanced at Harry as he seemed to become taut like stretched elastic – both waiting for the time when he would snap.

**II**

The Malfoys had retired for the evening and Astoria decided to bring the subject of Hermione's hurried departure up: “Please tell me, in-law, you did not try the Malfoy charm on my friend?”

“I sent an Owl about it,” Lucius groused gazing into the crackling fire. Through the silence, she had sung, I hear the word for love; I hear the word for death but I don't hear any answers. “She was wonderful with Flake, Hestius and Nero and Scorpius proposed marriage to her.”

“Oh, the little charmer,” Astoria chuckled sipping her champagne, “so how did that translate into her becoming your new playmate?”

“I don't know,” he sighed. Ignore the ache, Lucius. You can do it. She is not the first beautiful witch to refuse you. The one with the most reason to reject you. “I was swept up by her songs and her gentle swaying in front of this fire.”

“Do you think she wanted to, really?” Draco asked.

“I will pretend I did not hear that Draco Malfoy,” Astoria sighed with an eye roll, “this is my friend, in-law,” she always called Lucius in-law because she knew it annoyed him but also made him feel warm. “Not some two knut tart from the lowest dregs of society.”

“I am well aware of that,” Lucius snapped grinding his teeth together, “I said I sent an Owl, can we drop it please?”

“No,” Draco said leaning over, “you brushed her hair earlier in a Ministry lift. How long have you been harbouring feelings for her?” his eyes narrowed as he watched his father drain the last of his Baileys'. “Because something like that does not happen in the merest blink of an eye.”

“Truthfully?” Lucius sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “When she volunteered to tell me of Narcissa's found condition,” Draco paled and Astoria reached over to squeeze her husband's hand to reassure him. “She sat in that chamber where she was viciously tortured by your, not at all missed aunt and when I burst into tears she held no qualms about comforting and hugging me. She held my hand when I went to identify the body and made sure the Elves knew to look after me and to order me to eat. In short, without her, I would not have had the energy to carry on living.”

“Four years?” Draco arched an eyebrow. “You liked her since then?”

“I wanted to become a friend to her but I did not know-how. Seeing her again today for the first time in almost a year – reignited all those old feelings,” he got up and paced the floor. Lucius was rarely ever this agitated before. Draco did not quite know how to calm his father down from the uncharacteristic show of ruffled feathers. “She hugged Flake, showed the Elf how his former Mistress had treated her and hugged him again,” he sighed, “Astoria, what else was I supposed to do?”

“Ask her out to dinner, in-law,” she sighed, “not, to use vulgarity, feel her up and expose her naked body whilst displayed on your lap like a slab of prize meat.”

“She was not naked Astoria,” Lucius smirked. Silver eyes sparkled in chrome against the heat of the fire. “Just naked enough.”

Even Draco licked his lips at the thought: “Oh it is like that is it, Draco?” Astoria snapped at her husband.

“What?” Draco jumped. “No!”

“Blaise Zabini has a fine bottom,” Astoria smiled dreamily. “Do you think I could...”

“ABSOLUTELY NOT!” Draco roared.

Shaking his head Lucius could not help but smile affectionately at the young couple. Still playing their Slytherin common room games. Ah well, at least they married for love, Narcissa had tried to push Draco towards Hermione at the end of the war. But she had her heart set on Weasley – foolish girl. At least this directive showed her what a mistake that was likely to be.

“Not even if I let you have Hermione?” Astoria pretended to wheedle.

“There's only one Wizard who will have you and that is me!” Draco grabbed Astoria's wrist and apparated them both up to their shared bedroom.

Chuckling dirtily Lucius was almost going to pick a book to read before another elf popped in: Ducky, the one who resided in the Malfoy aviary – produced a rolled-up scroll. “Chaldor has returned, Master!” Ducky said, “This missive is for your eyes only.” With that, the most loquacious of elves had popped back to the Avian sanctuary. All that time spent around his letters and scrolls had taught the elf to speak properly, so well that it was the rare elf – like Dobby that required clothing. Lucius offered him a very old cravat and the elf cut it up and wore it as a scraggy bow tie and trousers.

Suddenly, Lucius needed a drink. If Hermione had written a flat out refusal he would need Dutch courage before he could take the news somewhat badly. After a snifter of brandy, he unrolled the scroll to read her reply. His heart soared at her words:

“ _Dear Lucius,_

_After having your beautifully manicured hands on my delicate area – soaking me the way that only one other managed to with just his voice, the way your fingers strummed me... The kiss you bestowed upon my willing lips was the most explosive of all reactions to a kiss I ever have had. I was in a state of liquid desire for you, Lucius. Why?_

_Of course, I could say the surroundings helped. Book lined shelves floor to ceiling, a warm fire, a quiet hush and the fact that I was laid so openly and wantonly to your inscrutable silvered gaze._

_I ran, I admit, out of cowardice: I am not ashamed to say it. I was frightened by the strength. The intensity. The fact that Lucius Malfoy mentioned I was beautiful. Treated me as such. Such attention as no other Man or Wizard ever showed me. Like I was better than a Quidditch match. Your smooth, dare I say it, an orgasmic voice I wish I could record and place under my pillow to soothe me into sleep. I am sure you can understand why I chose to run. I felt like the fly and you were the spider._

_Please, also, I want to know of this charm you used to give my hair that extra shine that you did?_

_On a more serious note, have you had any word on Narcissa's murderer yet? I cannot believe it has taken this long, I truly am fuming for your broken heart. I will do all in my power to make sure the case is re-opened, I refuse to believe you were party to her murder the way some critics say you were._

_Amicably Yours_

_Miss H.J Granger._

_PS: You may call me Hermione and please do not be shy in communicating with me. I somewhat have an idea that could make correspondence a little – well – spicy, to say the least, and need a prominent backer._ ”

Wow, he had to sit down. No, he had to stand up. No, he had to sit down. Stand up. Sit down. Pace and fan himself with the letter she had written to him. So that was why he sighed, she was frightened because she thought it was on the spur thing and scared that it would be a mistake. Of course, she could call him Lucius. Hermione was so much better than Miss Granger – she most certainly did live up to her name.

Sitting at his desk his elegant scrawl resembled more like the scratching he made as Fifth Year when he saw Andromeda Black for the first time.

“ _Dear Hermione_

_Did you ever have doubt that we could be more informal with each other? Whilst I maintain I behaved abominably to a guest in my home I will, of course, not feel you bothersome in my presence at all, as I cling onto the desire you will come to feel safe with me._

_As for the charm, it is a creation all of my own which has yet to be patented but that is taking time to be verified. Maybe your research skills could help me there, I will not offer payment unless you are not gainfully employed. I suppose that is why I could use it in the lift as it is not one charm everyone knows._

_I must admit this spicy idea of yours sounds rather – intriguing, and if it is funding you need or research, I can only help you for that too. I believe at this rate you may as well have your own rooms here. More convenient if we are to collaborate together on many projects._

_Alas, my wife's murderer still roams free. I do not wish to bully the Aurors in the rate of the fact that I hear Muggles are being found in the same manner. This could be a muggle weapon but we both know how that cannot be true. My wife would have put them out of their misery if it was that simple._

_As for my kissing technique and elegant hands I can assure you they would be on their best behaviour in your presence – unless you personally allow them to be naughty. I am afraid you will just have to cream with my voice, my dear, as I can do nothing about that._

_Amiably yours._

_Lucius!_ ”

Yes, that should stimulate her as much as she stirred that old ache again in him. What was wrong with him? Should he postscript this with... oh yes, he grinned.

“ _PS: I hope you are wearing something small, black and silky when you're reading this and I hope your slender little fingers are curiously wondering if they can compete with my hand!_ ”

That should do it, he smiled. He clicked his fingers and called for Ducky who was holding a red envelope. Placing it on Lucius desk the elf handed the other message to his Master: Great, that bloody list!

Lazily, with a letter opener, he gashed through the top and started reading the names of the five Witches some ancient biddies had deemed worthy to bear his fruitage. As he scanned the names he alighted upon one. “Ah well, my dear,” he raised a glass of whiskey now, “the worthy St Valentine has, indeed, smiled upon me.”

**III**

The Ministry Matches handed to Potions Master Severus Snape ran as thus:

“Master of Potions: Severus Snape

As you are well aware your time to hide in solitude is over. For the new law implemented requires appropriate gravitas to guide it along. You, sir, are the epitome of gravitas. So may I now proceed with the details – By the end of this Summer on September 1st an Announcement of impending marriage must be made at the behest of the Ministry – you can only choose from those five names. You may court all of them. This, however, is the definitive list and you would do well to consider all your options thereof as regards the oncoming statute.

The names as thus:

1: Josie Clutterbuck (Hufflepuff) Muggleborn

2: Eleanor Youngblood (Gryffindor) Half-Blood

3: Hannah Abbott (Hufflepuff) Half-Blood

4: Cho Chang (Ravenclaw) Pureblood

5: Hermione Granger (Gryffindor) Muggleborn

We are aware that they all are former students of yours – we also note that one name on this list may not fill you with joy but dread – however enough time has passed for neither of former statements to be a concerning issue. I do hope that you can take this matter seriously. I need _not_ remind you, you must choose a name on this list. Failure to comply for you would be a return to teaching Potions and all assets frozen from September 1st until the law comes into place.

Tomorrow you will receive a file on each one to help make up your mind.

Yours Sincerely

Rufus Scrimgeour (The Minister of Magic)

Kingsley Shacklebolt (Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic)”

Growling with frustration, Severus knew there was only one place he had to be. He had to find out what was on Lucius' list before he made a move. He remembered all those students. Encouraging unity, yes he was all for that. Serving two masters for as long as he did, he of all people comprehended the reasoning behind this. But why involve him? As to the names... No, he would not even _consider_ dating a Hufflepuff. Cho Chang was friends with the bitch who betrayed Dumbledore's Army to Umbitch, for that reason alone he crossed her off immediately. Eleanor Youngblood... he remembered she was studious and quiet. A possibility.

Shaking his head in his hands Severus knew, deep down, there was only one choice for him. Hermione Granger. Not to mention how she entered the Minister's office and made the idiot squirm in his chair. Oh yes, if he had to have children, it would be her that he would rather procreate with.

Another pro: he would be able to make sure Lily's son was still behaving and stop him from doing anything stupid. Like breed any more children. Stuffing the list in his trouser pockets. Severus did not care that his dark green shirt was undone by four buttons. Or that his hair was fluffed up. Severus needed to talk.

A return to teaching was _not_ an option.

**IV**

This was the letter Hermione Granger received.

Dear Miss H.J Granger

As you are well aware this is a delicate situation and we would only have chosen the best ones to be able to cope with the onslaught of the MAGICAL PRESS. We need to see the right faces go on their covers, do we not? Your face is beautiful. Your capability to hold your own well against the paparazzi is a Galleon in your favour so to speak. So, please take this as a compliment rather than an insult.

The list is as follows:

1: Theodore Nott (Pureblood)

2: Blaise Zabini (Pureblood)

3: Lucius Malfoy (Pureblood)

4: Marcus Flint (Pureblood)

5: Severus Snape (Half-blood)

I understand these are all Slytherin names but they are the best of the best. I reinforce this most strongly. You must choose one of these names to pledge your heart to. Failure to comply with the programme would result in a heavy fee to be paid to the Ministry on the day of September 1st In repayment for several broken magical treasures during a battle that took place almost ten years ago, one which you partook in.

You can choose more than one to date as long as that is discussed with your future paramour. However, you do have to publish an announcement of engagement on September 1st at the latest or face the aforementioned penalty.

Yours Sincerely

Rufus Scrimgeour (Minister of Magic)

Kingsley Shacklebolt (Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic)”

HOW? Hermione fumed. Not only were they all bloody Slytherin but one was a man who now put her insides all a jitter. _Marcus Flint_? What cruel sadistic joke was that? She'd sooner kiss the Giant Squid. Blaise and Theodore were interesting though, at least she knew them partially already. Severus Snape: a man who was supposed to be six feet under!

And what the heck was she supposed to do if her name landed on all their lists and they all decided they wanted to date her? This was absurd, cruel, and horrible. Playing with peoples hearts and emotions. Did not the quill pushers at the Ministry understand the meaning of the word: Empathy? Oh boy, was Shacklebolt going to get an earful to come the morrow!

Cautiously, she sneaked a glance at Harry who was currently nursing a cognac sipping slowly peering into the fire. Probably wondering the same things she was.

“Harry,” she whispered.

“What?” he murmured dully.

“D-don't do anything foolish,” she sighed. “He clearly had his reasons to stay away.”

Clenching his jaw Harry turned and gave Hermione the coldest look she had ever received from him; glacial green eyes shimmered like a frozen lake: “Like, Hermione?” she opened her mouth to shut it again, “go on, I am very curious as to what you would consider foolish.”

Merlin on a paddle he even sounded like Snape then. “Like confront Prof- Mr Snape, personally. I am sure he will explain in due time.”

“Why do you think he lied to me?” Harry stood up and finished his drink in one gulp he was that furious, “Did he not realise I _actually_ respect him now? I wanted to _talk_ to him. Had so many questions only he could answer,” he paced, “and now,” he turned around with a calculating smile that made Hermione think that – even without the Dark Lord's influence – Harry might have made a good Slytherin: “ _when_ you marry him I can have him where I can keep an eye on him.”

Silence overtook this dangerous threat. One broken by Ginny's gentle hand on Harry's shoulder: “Her name may not be on his list,” she whispered.

“It doesn't matter,” Harry grinned maniacally, “he's on hers!”

“I will not bring Mr Snape in, just for you to interrogate him, Harry,” Hermione stood defiantly against her friend. “If you have any sense you would not have another drink and go to bed,” she snapped.

“What? Before I have another clever idea to get us all killed or worse expelled?” Harry sneered. Harry though a lamb sober was one of those bitter drunks.

“I am going home, Harry,” Hermione said stiffly. “I need to contemplate my future,” here she picked up her briefcase and brought out a phial containing a shimmering potion and handed it to Ginny. “Goodnight, Harry. Goodnight Ginny.”

She needed some air. So she decided to walk out of their house. Round a corner she pulled her wand out and the Knight Bus appeared in all her purple glory. She stepped on and noticed the bottom was filled with sleepy Witches and Wizards.

“Where too?” Ernie asked.

Where indeed? Oh, she supposed it could not hurt to go there again. “Malfoy Manor – Wiltshire,” she said paying her fee from her green velvet coin purse. Before the doors shut an Owl swooped in. The same handsome eagle owl that had come to her previously. Untying the scroll from the night avian she took a deep breath. Climbing up the stairs she found a quiet corner on the second floor.

Getting comfortable on the bed Hermione realised the Owl was staying with her. Obviously it knew it was going to get home. Besides, this human was nice. The note that Lucius sent to her made her blush and a warm tingle began in her panties and she found herself hitching her skirt up, spreading her legs and... No! She snapped her hand back and hid the note in her briefcase: “Your Master,” she said to the Owl, “is extremely sadistic!”

**V**

This was the letter in which Mr Malfoy Sr was in receipt of:

“Dear Mr L.J.A Malfoy

Mr Malfoy, I am aware of your past with Muggleborns and the Purebloods who befriend them, so I had to take this and your past into consideration as I am sure you have done so many times, Mr Malfoy. I do need to remind you that this law requires you to make a choice. You were chosen for this task because you are not only the most influential in our society but, supposedly the most reformed of your former beliefs.

Eminence still counts in our world as you well know. The Minister himself has approved those selected. We trust you to bring back some of that colour and pizazz you are so fond of showing.

Without further ado, I give you your list:

1: Luna Lovegood (Ravenclaw) Pureblood

2: Susan Bones (Hufflepuff) Half-Blood

3: Katie Bell (Gryffindor) Half-Blood

4: Penelope Clearwater (Ravenclaw) Muggleborn

5: Hermione Granger (Gryffindor) Muggleborn

As you can see there are no Slytherins amongst your chosen five – we need a world of Unity and not prejudiced segregation. I strongly remind you that you must marry one from this Ministry approved list. Failure to comply would result in a years sentence to Azkaban and a hefty sum to be paid in lieu to one: Mr Neville Longbottom (Assistant to Professor Sprout of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry!) for the health bills he has had to pay from your late sister-in-law's torture six and twenty years past on his parents, former Aurors Frank and Alice Longbottom.

Tomorrow; folders and files will be sent to you so you can make an informed decision. Please reply as soon as possible.

Yours Sincerely

Rufus Scrimgeour (Minister of Magic)

Kingsley Shacklebolt (Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic)”

Well, Lucius smirked. Elation took over, he could have danced a childish jig on the fur rug. Seems there were sensible people on that committee after all. He knew the Lovegood girl. She was quite a foe on the battlefield – behind the sappiness she was strong and intelligent but no, he sighed. Out! Susan Bones was related to Amelia Bones, quite pretty he sighed, but there was no force on earth he could find himself married to a Hufflepuff. Katie Bell, he heard of her, she was on the Gryffindor Quidditch team along with Potter. He may consider her. No wait, his son was the one that cursed her during his fatal sixth year. Best avoided. Penelope Clearwater, he dismissed, she was tainted by that Percy Weasley. A man he held the strongest contempt for when he learned he had abandoned his family. The family was important. No boy should have left their parents in derision the way that pusillanimous brat did. So, he would have a Gryffindor.

He just hoped and prayed that Severus did not also have Hermione's name on his list. Would not do to confuse the poor young woman. Tenderly, he traced her name with the longest digit of his finger.

It would certainly be no chore to be married to Hermione.

“Mrs Hermione Malfoy,” he sighed sitting back in his chair as his fingers lazily stroked down his hardening length. “As stunning as you look in that artwork of a gown I do prefer you _au naturel_ , especially on our honeymoon,” closing his eyes he began to moan.

**Author's Note:**

> What is her reaction indeed?


End file.
